by Jane Henry
Glancing to the side, he saw the door to his office. He'd give her everything she needed… except the truth. She couldn’t get the whole truth from him. Not yet.
Slay opened his door and handed the delivery guy cash, as Alice roamed his playroom with permission. He liked the idea of doing a totally normal thing like paying for takeout, while his naked submissive was just in the other room ogling his wares. He'd unlocked the door and told her to check things out, see what interested in her, and he'd meet her in there shortly.
“Alice,” he called, after he’d paid. “Come here.”
She came to him, her arms crossed on her chest self-consciously. They’d work on that. “Oh, that smells so good. May I please put some clothes on?”
He quirked a brow. “Absolutely not. Why would you do a thing like that?” He tried his best to look serious, but it was hard to stay focused. He wanted to push her up against the wall and fuck her hard right here and now.
“Um, sanitary reasons? I'm not really comfortable with sitting my very tender spanked ass on your kitchen chair.” She crossed her arms over her naked breasts.
“Who said you were sitting on a chair?” he said, pulling a chair out and sitting down. He patted his lap. Smiling shyly, she walked over to him. “On my knee, baby,” he said in his deep voice.
She obediently sat down. “That's a good girl,” he said, his hand on her soft belly, he adjusted her on his lap, and flicked open the lids to the burgers, fries, and salad he'd ordered.
“Mmm,” she said. “Ohh, this looks so good.”
“Help yourself, honey,” he said. It felt so damn good to have her on his lap. He was pleased to see she didn't need to be asked twice, as she snagged the food and began to eat.
“So, tell me what you think of the room,” he said. “Anything you want to try? Anything you don't want to?”
“Well,” she said, squirming on his lap. “Honestly, the… um, post looks interesting. I've never been stretched out and whipped, but you spank hard so I'm not so sure I'd like that.”
He swallowed a fry. “Doesn’t have to be a whip, baby. I’m happy to use a flogger. Some are tame, almost tickle.”
She nodded. It wouldn't be all about what she liked. If she earned a punishment, it wouldn’t be fun for either of them. Still, he needed to know what did appeal to her.
“The spanking bench also has me curious. I checked out the implements, too. I'm curious about… well, most of them, to be honest. The clamps for sure are intriguing. I've had some sessions at The Club, but… that was different.”
Sure as hell it was different.
“The restraints look interesting, but…” she put a fry down and looked away. Her face had gone pale, and the humor that had been dancing in her eyes evaporated.
“What, honey?” he said, concerned about the shift.
“No blindfolds, Daddy,” she whispered. “Remember? Please?”
He'd been fantasizing about tying a silky blindfold over her eyes, and using the deprived sense of sight to heighten the session. “It’s okay,” he said. “I do like the idea of blindfolding you and ramping you up that way. It shows you trust me. But I get that you don’t want to go there. Can you tell me why, honey?”
“I don't know,” she said. “It scares me. It's even… it's a hard limit, Slay. I can't do it. I don't want to do it,” she said now, in a rush of words that concerned him. She was afraid. “I don't like the idea of not being able to see. I'm trying hard to trust you, I really am. But I need to know I have some control here.”
Ah. Control. It was at the very crux of everything they did. The give and take of power, the give and take of trust. It was where she'd find her ultimate fulfillment. But they'd have to work to get there.
He'd fucked up, and he was still learning himself.
“Maybe you need to experience something you're afraid of so you can learn to trust me,” he suggested.
Her eyes hardened, her lips pursed. “Or maybe you need to listen to me when I tell you I have a hard limit,” she snapped.
His response was instinctive. He pulled her hair back and pulled her ear to his mouth. “I'm listening, Allie. There's no need to be rude. We're talking. But I don't want you to talk to me that way again. Got it?”
“Yes, Daddy,” she whispered, nodding her head as best she could with his hand grasping her hair.
“Good.” He kissed her forehead. “I get it. I’ll respect your limits. Just don’t stop talking to me. You get me?”
Her eyes softened and she nodded. “I do,” she said.
He released her, balled up the napkins, and stacked everything together. “If you need to freshen up in the bathroom, do that now. Then I'll meet you in the room. When I come in there, I want you kneeling on the bench, belly down, ready for Daddy. Yeah?”
She nodded. “Yes, Daddy.”
He sent her off with a swat to the ass that had her squealing, as he quickly tidied his kitchen. When he joined her a few minutes later, she was obediently on the bench as instructed. It was a sight he could get used to. Her breasts pushed up against the padded leather, her belly down, ass in the air, presenting to him.
“Very good,” he murmured, coming up behind her and running his hand along the small of her back, the roughness of his hand smoothing over her bare skin. “Such a good girl.”
“What's behind the locked door, Daddy?” she asked.
He froze. It was the last thing he expected to hear.
“That's private,” he said.
He could see the visible tension as she tilted her head to the side. “We're doing that again?”
Without thinking he smacked his hand down on her naked backside.
She yelped and frowned. “Why did you spank me?”
“You're being rude again,” he said.
“But I was only asking!”
He was half tempted to give her another swat, but appreciated how difficult this was for her. “I told you there were some things I had to hold onto for now,” he said. “Yeah, it's private, and yeah, I can't tell you about it now.” He paused, rubbing her naked skin. “But I want you to trust me, Alice.” He sighed. What else could he do to show her that it was for her own good? That not knowing right now was in her best interest? Not only could her knowing put Diego at risk, it could put her at risk.
She closed her eyes and inhaled. When she opened them, she looked determined. “Okay,” she said. “All right, Daddy. This is what I'm doing. You've got me naked, sprawled out on a bench, ready to take whatever you give me. I'm not going to ask questions about the room. I'm going to do my very best to…” she paused, inhaled, then exhaled, “trust you. My very best. I promise.”
He nodded. It was the best he could ask from her. He walked over to the table and took her wrists in his hand, bending down to kiss each one before placing her hands in the restraints attached to the bench and cinching.
“Too tight?” he asked.
“No, Daddy.”
He nodded. She was already breathing in low gasps, as he gently pulled one ankle, then the other into the stirrups at the base of the bench. He fastened the leather cuffs that held her in place, and gently moved her until she was in the exact position he wanted her in, spread eagle and ready, her gorgeous ass on display and ready to take whatever he gave her. God, he wanted to pull his cock out and take her, right here, right now. He reached out and ran his hand over her hair, smoothing it back from her forehead and neck. Bending, he planted a kiss to her neck.
“I know you said no blindfold, honey,” he whispered. “I want you to close your eyes when you can, and try to get to that place of letting go. That way you can open your eyes if you need to. You get me?”
“Yes, Daddy,” she said, nodding, as much as she could with her cheek pressed up against the leather.
He'd placed a variety of implements on pegs on the wall near the bench. Selecting a sturdy paddle, he walked back over to her. Her eyes followed him the whole way, until he came up behind her and placed a hand on her lower
back. “Relax, little girl. Relax and trust Daddy.”
He lifted the paddle and brought it down with a sharp but moderate crack. The breath hissed out of her and her skin turned pink. Again, he swatted her with the paddle, slowly bringing the heat to the surface of her skin, warming her up good so she could take whatever he gave her. Swat after swat fell, and at first she flinched with each stinging stroke, but after a few more, he saw the tension leave her body. She no longer flinched with each spank but now slumped against the table. Good. Very good. She was warmed up. Switching the paddle to his left hand, he stroked her naked bottom, and she moaned. He walked back over to the pegs, hung the paddle back up, and removed a thin bamboo rod.
Her eyes were shut as he walked back over to her and again, placed a hand on her back as he snapped the cane against her pink skin. She jumped a bit, but the swat was again moderate. He peppered her backside evenly, painting her all over with little flicks of the cane. Stripes rose against her skin, but still, she took it.
“So good,” he whispered to her ear. “Such a good girl. Taking her spanking like a very good girl.” Though her eyes stayed closed, her lips turned up in a smile. He placed the cane back and removed a long, thick leather strap. He wanted her to fully succumb to his power, to submerge herself in the spanking. Over time, he'd be able to bring her to sub-space with the varied spanking techniques, a good, long session with varying intensity a good gateway to bliss for the trained submissive. It would likely take time to get there. Her eyes fluttered open as he walked back over to her with the strap, but quickly shut again. He grinned. She was trying. His sweet girl was trying.
“Such a good girl,” he whispered, as he reared back and snapped the strap against her vulnerable backside. She flinched and yelped, but he kept going, landing one good swat after another. She shrieked.
“Ow, Daddy! Oh, that hurts so much!”
But he didn't stop, not until he'd delivered three more rapid, stinging swats. When he stopped, she slumped against the table again. It was necessary, a good mix of both lighter and softer strokes of the strap, to take her to where she needed to go. She was getting there already, each stroke of the strap no longer causing her to protest but to breathe deeper, her eyes shut tight. He watched her closely. If she did indeed achieve subspace, he’d have to be prepared. Coming down after a subspace session would need particular aftercare.
After the strap came another paddle, a small acrylic one with a wicked bite. He gave her a dozen good swats, all over her tender backside. She was bright red now, a raspberry color, but he'd carefully warmed her up and massaged her, so that he wouldn't hurt her, but rather give her a thorough spanking she'd feel for days and days. He put the acrylic paddle away and came back to her. He lifted his hand and delivered a good, stinging slap of his palm. She shifted and he plunged a finger into her.
He chuckled. “Just what I expected. My good girl is wet again for Daddy. Such a good girl.” He pumped his fingers, then removed them, lifting his hand and delivering another sharp swat. She squealed, and he kept going, one swat after another, reveling in the connection of skin-to-skin contact. He loved the power and control the implements gave him, but nothing could compare to the erotic intimacy of a hand spanking, her skin flaming hot to the touch.
He lost track of time. Her eyes were closed and she was breathing heavily, in a stupor-like state, as he spanked on and on. If she trusted him more, he'd have been able to take her to subspace, and she was almost there, already her breathing steady and low. But he didn't want to freak her out. Not now. And shit, he couldn't take one more second of waiting to take her.
He stopped, stroking his finger along her slit, wet with arousal.
“How does that feel, honey?”
“So good, Daddy. So, so good,” she said, her words slurred and drunken.
He bent and kissed along her hot, reddened, no doubt aching bottom, then nipped her skin. She gasped as his tongue flicked along the bite-mark before he dipped lower and stroked his tongue along her slit. She moaned out loud. He continued to kiss, and bite, alternating grazing his teeth along her skin and then his tongue, as she moaned and squirmed. Finally, he released the binds fastening her ankles and wrists. But she didn't move. Was she in sub-space?
When he walked to where her head lay on the bench, she was grinning.
“How are you doing, baby?” he asked, running a hand along her scalp and squeezing her neck.
“Good, Daddy. Oh, so, so good,” she repeated.
Perfect.
“Come here, baby,” he said softly, placing his hands under her arms and lifting her straight up off the bench. Her head fell to his shoulder as he held her tightly, letting her feel his strength and power. It felt so good to be wanted like this. It was everything he'd yearned for with her. God, he'd do whatever it fucking took to keep her here like this.
He kicked open the door and stalked to his bedroom, giving one last glance at the locked office before he left. He would make love to her. He would make her climax again, and again, and again. He would give her all that she needed from him.
Shit was going down, and how the next few weeks would play out would be telling. She’d need to hold on then. He'd fulfill every fantasy and leave her submitted to him, pining for him, his little Allie-girl's submissive needs met in spades.
Tonight, like every night, she belonged to him.
Chapter 9
Alice lay in Slay’s bed savoring the aches she felt all over her body. Her ass was bruised in the most delicious way, her arm muscles had the satisfying stiffness that came from being restrained, her legs felt like jelly from being positioned and repositioned all night long, and she was pretty sure that she had never come so hard or so often in her life. Four times, had it been? Five? Meh. Who could count? She’d been in a blissful haze from nearly the first moment Slay had applied the paddle to her backside.
“Six.” The deep rasp of Slay’s voice had her turning her head on the pillow, her eyes blearily searching through the murky pre-dawn darkness to find him propped on one elbow, staring down at her. Where the heck did he get the energy?
“Hmm?” she mumbled. Honest to God, her lips couldn’t even form words.
“That, just a minute ago, was number six,” he repeated, as though he could read her mind. His tone was a tiny bit smug, but his eyes devoured the sight of her, spread naked and sated on his bed, with unwavering intensity. He reached out one enormous hand and trailed his blunt, callused finger down the column of her throat, across her collarbone, then down the valley between her breasts. The rough skin of his hand sent streaks of fire zinging up to her brain and down to her pussy, her body so attuned to him, so damn primed for him, that she was already arching up to his touch.
It had been like this all night. After the spanking of a lifetime, after getting as close to subspace as she had ever been, Slay had turned to her again and again, alternately fucking her and making love to her. Every time she’d fallen into an exhausted stupor, confident that her body had reached its limit, he’d touch her gently, or just say her name in his soft, gravelly voice, and she’d find that she hadn’t come close to reaching her limit yet. It had been frenzied and soul-shattering and amazing. Her man had been amazing.
Now, his wicked hand trailed lower, and his palm splayed over her fluttering belly.
“My baby is such a good girl,” he approved in a whisper. “She’s always ready for what her daddy wants to give her, isn’t she, baby?”
His hand was so big that while his thumb brushed her belly button, his baby finger was hovering just above her clit, tantalizingly close.
Despite the exhausted euphoria that had turned her limbs to jelly, she wanted Slay’s approval… and fuck but she wanted that finger.
She licked her lips. “Yes, Daddy,” she whispered.
He smiled, his teeth bright in the darkness, and his hand moved lower to play with her, his knowing fingers applying just the right amount of pressure to her already sensitized flesh. Oh, yeah.
�
��If Daddy wants to play with her, my baby is ready,” he continued.
Alice struggled to focus on his words. He had phrased it as established fact, not a question, but still she replied. “Yes, Daddy.”
He made a rough, approving noise and the movements of his finger became more deliberate, a second and third digit sliding through her wetness to curve inside of her. Oh, God. Again. It was building again.
“And if Daddy wants to use his mouth on her,” he began, leaning forward, until his head was positioned above her breast, then taking one aching nipple in his mouth to tongue it lightly. “My baby is eager.” His breath fanned over the wet peak that he’d licked, bit, and suckled throughout the night, until it no doubt glowed a neon raspberry. That whisper of cool air was enough to make her moan.
“Oh, Daddy,” she cried as she arched toward him.
“Fuck,” he muttered, burying his face in her neck and suckling on the tender flesh there, in exactly the spot that drove her crazy, while his fingers dipped inside her.
How could she be this close, this fast?
“But Allie-girl, what happens if Daddy thinks you’ve had enough?” he whispered.
Her brain was so clouded by arousal that his words barely registered. But then he removed his hand from her pussy, rolled himself slightly away from her straining, eager body.
“Alice, what happens if Daddy thinks you need some rest right now? What if Daddy thinks his girl needs to sleep?”
She couldn’t help the whimper that escaped her.
Oh, heck no! Now? Now, when she was right on the edge?
She reached out one hand to touch him, to run her hand along the hot length of his cock, which was rock hard.
He hissed sharply and grabbed her wrist. “No,” he said severely, restraining her hand. “I asked you a question. What do you do if Daddy doesn’t give you what you need or want right away, whether it’s because he doesn’t think you’ve earned it, or because he doesn’t think it’s what’s best for you, or because he’s trying to keep you safe. What does my baby do then?”